Lullaby
by Bazylia de Grean
Summary: Sharpe's Waterloo, filmverse, since there's no separate category for it. Five people's musings about war, fighting and leaving. Sharpe, Harper, Harris, Hagman and Sally.


**. . .**

**Lullaby**

**. . .**

V

Sally puts the wood into the fire, pausing now and then to chafe her hands. Every evening, when she is sitting by a candle, she is waiting for the door to open. Days pass, then weeks, weeks stretch into months, and even though she knows better, she cannot bring herself to stop waiting.

There is an empty place beside the table, and an empty plate; she cooks only for one, because she cannot afford more all on her own, but when he finally comes back she will be able to go through one evening without dinner. She used to sing, but now there is an empty silence hanging over the little house, for she promised herself she will wait for him. Sometimes she still smiles, but it is a knowing, broken smile, he will never return to you, Sally, no, he will not. She did not understand why he had to go, but seeing men coming back from another war she thinks she might know the reason now.

No matter if their bodies are still alive at home or dead and buried somewhere in the cold earth, for they never truly return.

IV

Richard goes to battle, smiling, the expression on his face welcoming. His final battle, he is not going to fight anymore, he truly is not. If he does not get killed, he will settle down with Lucille, live a quiet, peaceful life. He promised himself he would not go to war again, then broke the promise and now he is here, going into another battle willingly. He has been a soldier all his life, he cannot do anything else, there is a part of him that will always be awaiting new adventures and battlefields.

It was moments ago that his friends were killed, it was moments ago he avenged them, but too late, too late, when will you learn that revenge does not turn back time, Richard, you should have stayed, you should have killed that pompous fool earlier, you should have make them come with you and Pat, you should have bloody done something.

Richard is going into battle with a smile on his face, because in the frenzy of the fight for a moment he can forget everything.

III

Patrick leaves the battlefield with a smile on his face, but it is not heartfelt. Just a mask of a simple, good-humoured man, he always has a smile and unknowing expression ready, waiting. He finally saw Napoleon, now he can return home, Patrick Harper, gentleman, grown weary of battles.

But this was no battle for he did not fight, not really. There is his new life, waiting for him in Ireland. There are all the years he spent as a soldier, looking at him with reproach; you left, you had a reason and a choice and a right to do so but you left and your friends are dead now, except for the one that is going off to end this war, and you left him too, there will be no redemption now, Pat.

Patrick knows that when he returns Ireland will be green like the colour of their uniforms.

II

Harris sees his friend fall, and there is no time to think it is all the stupid prince's fault, there is only time to rush forward, but no time to look around and be careful, a grave mistake, if there was time he would appreciate the delightful irony of the phrase. He staggers and falls, and time is running even thinner now, but each second is a few inches closer and he manages to reach Dan's hand just in time, so his efforts do not come to waste because he does not leave his friend even in death.

There should be singing, he thinks as his eyes close slowly. This is an absurd thought, but they have lived and fought and took their rest with a song, so it is fitting they should go with a tune, too.

Their music is rifle shots and clatter of swords and wheezing of dying horses and moaning of dying men. None of the book were right, Harris thinks; there is no glory to be found in it at all.

There is no one else beside to tell him there is glory in his last effort to grab his friend's hand.

I

Daniel walks out of the little house and stops momentarily, for the first and the last time, there is no turning back, only the way forward, three steps matching, three steps running, he remembers it all too well. Part of him wishes to stay, part of him knows it will not be forgiven, another part of him cries out in anger and despair because what the hell you are doing, Dan?!

But somewhere inside, deep in his bones, he feels this fragment of his life is over, just as he felt after the victory in France. He came back, not quite home but close enough and far enough, only to find there was nothing for him there, all finished, from almost nothing to soldier and then to nothing again. And still he eventually found home, the kind he had not expected to find, not so late in life, the kind only another soul can provide. And yet he has been waiting for the call ever since returning. Despite having found a quiet haven to rest in and a woman to share his life, he still feels out of place. So when the time comes he does not hesitate, but simply says goodbye to Sally, gathers his belongings and walks on, the way he always does.

Music has been his constant and faithful companion, during his days both before the campaigns and later over the years of soldiering. He used to sit by the camp fire, chasing the fears and nightmares away with a tune, he marched into battle with a song ready on his lips.

Daniel is walking away in silence.

* * *

_Author's note: I known it all looks a little different in the book, but I haven't had a chance to read it yet, and the way they did the film version of_ Sharpe's Waterloo_ leave_s_ so many gaps..._


End file.
